“O
ur land is alive, Esperanza,” said Papa, tak-
ing her small hand as they walked through
the gentle slopes of the vineyard. Leafy
green vines draped the arbors and the grapes were
ready to drop. Esperanza was six years old and
loved to walk with her papa through the winding
rows, gazing up at him and watching his eyes
dance with love for the land.
“This whole valley breathes and lives,” he said,
sweeping his arm toward the distant mountains
that guarded them. “It gives us the grapes and then
they welcome us.” He gently touched a wild ten-
dril that reached into the row, as if it had been
waiting to shake his hand. He picked up a handful
of earth and studied it. “Did you know that when
you lie down on the land, you can feel it breathe?
That you can feel its heart beating?”
“Papi, I want to feel it,” she said.
“Come.” They walked to the end of the row,
AGUASCALIENTES, MEXICO1924